


Strawberry Jam

by Johnlockin221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Domestic Boyfriends, Don't copy to another site, Ficlet, Fluff and Humor, Kinda, M/M, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson Being Idiots, Slice of Life, Squabbling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28847886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlockin221b/pseuds/Johnlockin221b
Summary: John considers sticking his tongue out in retaliation.He doesn’t, because that would be childish.And out of the two of them, he is not the childish one.Sherlock Holmes, on the other hand…
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	Strawberry Jam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [honeybeeswatson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybeeswatson/gifts).



> For my dear friend [Pali](https://honeybeeswatson.tumblr.com/) who I felt needs a bit of fluffy Johnlock humour right now just as much as I do!
> 
> This is just a bit of cracky fun! I purposefully left it up to your own imagination what started this little squabble between these two idiots.
> 
> This is not the first fic I've written, but it is the first one I've published, so any kudos/comments are hugely appreciated!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here](https://johnlockin221b.tumblr.com/)

John takes a deep, slow breath.

This is _not_ going to become a full-scale argument.

John considers sticking his tongue out in retaliation.

He doesn’t, because that would be childish.

And out of the two of them, he is _not_ the childish one.

Sherlock Holmes, on the other hand…

**SPLAT**

It takes John a second or two to register the sound, and a couple more to realise that it came from the gelatinous blob of red currently stuck to the cupboard door to the right of where he’s currently standing.

 _Oh, no_.

Sherlock Holmes did _not_ just do that.

Sherlock Holmes did _not_ just catapult a spoonful of strawberry jam from the other end of the kitchen table, where the infuriating, childish man is currently sat, at him, in response to this undeniably ridiculous argument they appear to be having right now.

That did _not_ just happen.

Except, John thinks, looking between the cupboard door where the jam is starting to lose it’s stickiness and is slipping down the painted wood to drip onto the work surface below, and the man sitting at the other end of the kitchen table with what is, unquestionably, the biggest shit-eating grin on his face that John has ever seen, it just might have done.

That, and the spoon Sherlock still holds aloft in his left hand, stained red with the remnants of incriminating strawberry jam, only inculpates him all the more.

He can tell Sherlock is daring him to say something, or worse (or better, no doubt, in Sherlock’s mind) retaliate in his own way.

But he won’t do that.

Of course he won’t.

He’s an adult.

He’s not going to lower himself to Sherlock’s level.

Of course he isn’t...

The look of shock on Sherlock’s face is _absolutely_ worth it.

John’s pretty sure he’s wearing a similar expression on his own face.

At least until he looks back up from the empty glass in his hand to the sodden looking consulting detective opposite him, his newly soaked curls flattened to his forehead and his bottom jaw hanging very slightly open.

He looks ridiculous.

John’s heart skips a beat just from looking at him.

He surprises himself with the laugh that breaks free, quickly followed by another until he’s full on laughing.

It must surprise Sherlock too, because the latter is staring at him with a look of almost horror, before a grin slowly starts to spread across his face and he too laughs, although much quieter than John’s own.

“Sorry,” John whispers, wiping a single tear from the corner of his right eye when he gets himself under control a minute later.

Sherlock simply shakes his head, but there’s a small grin on his face.

Placing the empty glass down on the counter, beside the sticky pool of strawberry jam that John will undeniably have to deal with later, John walks around to the other end of the table.

Sherlock looks up as he approaches and John feels his heart speed up again at the sight of him, his hair dripping water droplets onto the table beneath and the collar of his shirt sticking against his dampened skin.

John tucks one of the soaked curls behind Sherlock’s ear without thinking twice about it.

“I love you,” he says quietly, bending down to place a soft kiss to Sherlock’s wet lips.

“I know,” Sherlock replies when John pulls back, and it makes John laugh again. “I love you too.”

Looking down at Sherlock again, John thinks a shower is what’s needed now.

He can’t even remember what they were fighting about anymore.

It clearly can’t have been important.


End file.
